lettuce sandwich. He could see the lettuce, crisp and green, peeping out
at the edges.

At the sight, he was conscious of a strange sensation; an almost
forgotten feeling to which, for the moment, he could put no name.

And then, as the girl bit into the sandwich, illumination came. He was
_hungry_! But what an unkind, inconsiderate girl!--Another bite and the
sandwich would be gone--

"I am awake," he suggested meekly.

"So Buster said." The girl smiled approvingly at the dog. "Good Buster!
You may come off guard, sir. Run away and get your lunch."

With a delighted bark for thanks the bull pup trotted away. Callandar's
sense of injury deepened. The girl had begun upon a second sandwich.
Perhaps there were only two!

"Are you hungry, Mr. Tramp?" asked the girl innocently.

"I think," he said, pausing in order to give his words full weight, "I
am starving!" Then, as the blissful meaning of this first feeling of
healthy hunger dawned upon him, he added solemnly: "Thank the Lord!"

"Yes?" There was a cool edge of surprise in the girl's voice. She
proceeded thoughtfully with the second sandwich.

"Yes. Hunger is a beautiful thing, a priceless possession. Money cannot
buy it, skill cannot command it. The price of hunger is far